Chapter 1 - California

​ These are tumultuous times we live in and I was really curious about how people and places were fairing. As a nation, are we as divided as the media indicates, should we be afraid of everyone and everything, and what is our environment really like? These are some of the questions that I had as we boarded the train that leaves Albany, NY and heads to Los Angeles. Our accommodations on the train were our seats which we called home for the three days of train travel. We spent much of the time in the observation car watching our country go by as if seeing it on a giant TV screen, only it was in real time. Trains have the tendency of moving through poorer areas that are outside of cities so we got to see many rundown buildings, junk yards, homeless camps and industrial areas, as well as the beautiful scenery in between.

The pedals had to be removed and the handlebars turned to be able to ship the bikes on Amtrak in cardboard boxes.

The scenery also included industrial infrastructure.

Gorgeous scenery along the Southwest Chieftain route as we rolled along towards California.

We had a layover of six hours in Chicago, enough time to grab a snack and to walk down to visit the shores of Lake Michigan.

The brilliant blue sky between the tall buildings of Chicago.

We arrived in Los Angeles November 7th and my sister Sally, along with her neighbor David, picked us up at Union Station and carried us and our bikes, which also traveled by train, to her house in the Silver Lake area of LA. I had a great time connecting with a sister that I haven’t seen enough of in years due to living on opposite coasts and I also had the opportunity to get to know my niece Mariko, which was a great gift.

Mary and I walked around the Silver Lake, CA neighborhood and stopped by a community garden to visit with one of the gardeners.

Ah yes. The Pacific Ocean in Santa Monica.

You know you are in California when you see an old VW bus in mint condition carrying many surfboards on the top.

Traveling through cities such as Los Angeles isn’t as crazy as one might think. There are bike lanes to ride on and as long as you use a bike mirror and pay close attention you can be relatively safe maneuvering the city. One rule of thumb is never taking it for granted that the drivers actually see you. We live in a world in which people are often in a rush, talking on the phone, eating, or texting, and who knows maybe all at the same time. Making eye contact with drivers is always a good idea. As we maneuvered our way through the city we passed Union Station where we had arrived, a beautiful building with an interesting history. Los Angeles is a multicultural city and the diversity was clearly apparent as we rolled along at 12 mph. After a day of riding through urban and suburban greater LA it was getting late and we had reached Azusa just as it was starting to be dusk. So far we had nowhere to stay but on our map we could see a wooded area coming up. As we went over a bridge I noticed a bike trail running perpendicular underneath and we decided to walk our bikes down a steep path to the trail. We rode for about a half a mile and saw a dirt road leading into the woods. I looked around and didn’t see anyone and said, “Let’s go in here.” We rode in about 100 yards or so and looked around at the possibilities of stealth camping when Mark rode up on his bike with his cat following him. We introduce ourselves and asked him if he thought it was safe to stay here overnight. “I live here, me and this guy Cuba patrol this area to make sure it’s safe, there are women living here and they need to feel safe.” We thanked him and searched for our spot. Out of our comfort zone we had a restless night but in the end Mark and Cuba kept us safe and our fears were unfounded, a lesson we would revisit throughout our trip.

The night we stayed near Mark and Cuba’s home we didn’t set up our tent, this is our camping site.

Up early we headed to Clairmont a very affluent college town. We had started out our trip on the famous Route 66. I had read that this famous road is being revitalized and I remember the TV show about this route so I couldn’t wait to stop at one of the coffee shops along the way. After our first, slightly unsettled night, it was nice to stop and sit outside where we met a musician from Egypt. We had such great conversation touching on the election, music and life in general, but it lasted much too long and we had many miles to go to get to Devore where we had reserved a campsite. Most of these miles were on a bike path which was easy going but it seemed like it went on forever. When the path came to an end we found a grocery store where we were told that Devore was 12 miles away, all uphill. As we started out we found the road had heavy traffic and no shoulder and soon darkness fell. With our lights on we ended walking on the side of the road over very bumpy terrain for about three miles until we reached the road the campground was on. Since there would be no one at the campground after 5 pm we had instructions to go to the second gate where there would be electronic pad to enter the combination. It wasn’t long before we passed the first gate and found the second one but we could not find the key pad to open the gate. I said, “We’re on bikes; let’s just go around the gate”. We entered and started riding around trying to find site #6 but we couldn’t even find any numbered site so we decided just to set up our tent. I suggested setting it up by the bathrooms but Mary wanted to be further away and we followed Mary’s advice and camped down in a large field. I walked up to the bathrooms and discovered they were all locked up and as I was standing there the sprinkler system turned on. I went back and told Mary it was a good thing we set up where we did and we crawled into our bags. It didn’t take long to fall asleep after riding all day. It was about 2:00 AM when the sprinklers came on where we were. Immediately we got up and took down the tent and once again we were looking for another place to sleep. Finally we found a concrete slab and figured they wouldn’t water there so even though it was a bit hard we again fell asleep. The next morning we found out that the person that gave us the instructions didn’t count the first gate we came to, and the campground was actually across the road from the second gate, and we had slept in the day use only park. After being refused to get our money back we decided to go to the campground for showers and charge our phones and the tablet. We found site #6 and since there were only two plugs on our site and there were only 2 other campers at the whole campground we plugged the tablet in the site next to ours and then went and showered. Our route for the day was on Interstate 10 which is uphill through Cajon Pass. Neither of us wanted to ride on the interstate so we decided to make a sign and hitchbike. Mary held the sign, Thru Pass, because we figured we were more apt to get a ride. We waited about an hour when Doug, from Friendship Farm, stopped. He had passed by us on the way to deliver vegetables and said he was pleased we were still there as he wanted to meet us. As a gift he brought us some homemade cookies for the ride. The bicycles were loaded and we drove about 20 miles through the pass where we were dropped off in a large supermarket parking lot. Pictures were taken and goodbyes were said and off drove Doug. It was then that we discovered that the tablet that was plugged in the adjacent site was still there at the campground! I told Mary, “You’re in charge of the tablet!” and her reply was, “You plugged it in and who put me in charge of the tablet anyway?” I couldn’t believe how fast I had lost the argument and we both agreed to make sure we always did a sweep and had everything before we left anywhere. Mary called the campground and asked if we could have it mailed to another campground where we would be in three days. She then called to see if we would be able to receive a package and then called the first campground to let them know it was all set up. The woman who was working at the park said she was going to Las Vegas the next day, knew where the next campground was and that she could drop off the tablet for us. ​

​Would you really pick this guy up?

I would definitely give her a ride.

Doug from Friendship Farms graciously transported us through Cajon Pass.

So far the trip seemed to be about overcoming challenges and mistakes and meeting extremely generous people. By this time we were tired and asked about a campground at a convenience store in Victorville. The clerk pointed up a steep hill and said the camping was four miles up that road, a road with lots of traffic, no shoulder, and out of our way. I came out of the store and saw a woman with a blanket wrapped around her and no shoes. Her eyes looked distant. I can still see her, as well as other lost souls, wandering the streets in my mind. We headed up the steep road when we spotted a motel. Again, we’re the lucky ones.

We stopped at a small antique shop on Rt. 66 and met the owner. The shops at this point are few and far between.

This sign indicates the effort being made to revitalize Rt. 66.

Up early we were soon on the road and heading to Lenwood where we planned on stopping for the night. The riding during the day was enjoyable as the population began to get less and less. It gets dark early in November so as we entered the outer part of Lenwood we turned off a side road searching for a possible campsite. We rode past a possible site in search of a better one when we came to a T and went left, away from the center of town. Now we were passing shacks where people were living. Many were out front looking at us as we passed. It is one thing to read about poverty but to witness it at such a slow speed is something I will remember; the forgotten people. As they stared at us I felt guilty at our freedom. The road ended and the only thing we could do was turn around and ride back along the same road with the same people staring at us. Reaching our campsite we push our bikes in between the dunes and set out our tent beneath some trees. It seems that every night was to be an unexpected adventure and this night was no exception. Our site was next to a dune buggy path and after dark the dune buggies started riding by. The night was so cold it was difficult to make the morning coffee and breakfast. As we traveled Route 66 towards the Newberry Springs campground, where our tablet awaited us, the population concentration really diminished. When we arrived we picked up our tablet only to realize the internet connection was very limited and finally we gave up on connecting with the world. Traveling down Rt. 66 has also been a surprise. All of the quaint coffee shops I had imagined were absent. The road itself was bumpy and at one point the surface was all broken up. During this section, since there was no one on the road, I would move over to the left side only to discover it was just as bad. We came to a smooth part when we saw a young man traveling towards us. Whenever we saw someone who was touring we pulled over and traded stories. This young traveler from Japan asked us if we had plenty of water and we told him we did then he told us the road ahead gets really bumpy. We share that the road is also bumpy ahead for him as well. We said our goodbyes and rode onward. When we came to our Japanese friend’s bumpy part we realized that he hadn’t seen bumpy until he got to the broken up part of Rt. 66 that we had come through!

Rt. 66 was extremely bumpy in many areas and broken up in some others. For tourism to return this infrastructure needs to be fixed in able to bring business to local establishments.

We were now definitely in the middle of the Mojave Desert. You could look down the road in either direction and see no one. Water and food is scarce, there is no internet and electricity is limited to charge our devices. Surprisingly, to us Vermonters, there is a lot of vegetation. After stealth camping in the desert that night we headed to our next stop, Bagdad. You could tell where this town was because the map showed a road going through the center of town. When we arrived there was nothing there, no shops, no houses, and no people.

No cars were to be seen in either direction. Every now and then we would see a vehicle coming down the road and we would comment.

We were surprised to learn the desert is full of vegetation.

​The mountains in the distant always surrounded us.

The sunsets in the Mojave Desert were delightfully colorful.

An old sign at Elmer’s Bottle Tree Ranch (a museum). We thought there would be a town, thus supplies, there.

We were navigating by the Adventure Cycling maps which indicated that Amboy, the next town, would have water to fill our empty bottles so we pushed on from Bagdad. When choosing in which direction to ride across the US, most bicyclists ride from West to East because of the prevailing winds. However, since we began there had been headwinds and after a few hours of fighting the wind we got to Amboy. I gathered all our empty water bottles only to find out that the water from the spigot was salt water and undrinkable. The shop there had water for sale and we could buy tiny plastic bottles of water for a dollar each. We bought 16. This was where we meet Steve who had toured in the past and was excited by our adventure. Steve was from the San Diego area and was working on a cell phone tower nearby. He told us that he was going to Essex and would give us a ride if we wanted it. Well, it didn’t take long before we were loading our bikes into his truck. We road about 30 miles and had great conversation. It turns out he had traveled on smaller trips and seeing us inspired him to get back out on his bike. He left us out right by Rt. 10 in Essex and we waved goodbye. Taking out the map things didn’t quite look right and I couldn’t determine where we were. Were we at point A or point B? Mary pointed down the road and said, “There are two women in that RV parked on the side of the road down there maybe they can help.” I started walking down to talk to them. The women were from Eastern Europe and spoke very little English yet they kept telling me I had to go back to Amboy. I walked back and told Mary that they must not have understood what I was saying because they kept telling me we had to go back to Amboy. Suddenly a man on a packed mountain bike rode up and we asked him which exit we were at. He pointed at a completely different point on the map and told us the only way to get to where we wanted to be was to go back to Amboy. He rode off and Mary and I stood there wondering what to do. The realization that we had to ride back 30 miles to the town with the little water bottles was definitely depressing. It was then that Steve drove up again and asked what we were doing. We explained our situation and he offered to drive us back to Amboy. The back of his truck was filled with cell tower stuff so we had to pile the bikes on top. It turns out that although there’s really nothing in Essex, the town is 50 miles wide and we were just in the wrong part of nothing. Who would of thought? We ended up getting out of the truck six miles East of Amboy so after 4 hours we did gain some mileage and the three of us had such a good laugh. By now, since we are on bicycles, we had the opportunity to talk to so many people, were helped many times and the generosity of the people so far was unbelievable. It was only a few miles down the road when we saw three young men traveling west who were from New Hampshire. They had graduated from New Hampshire University and wanted to cross the country before they entered the real world. We shared typical biking stories and what was ahead and they told us about an older couple, actually our age, that were behind them and we may see them. Saying our goodbyes we headed east. It wasn’t long before we looked for our campsite and since it was clear with no rain in site we decided to set our tent up in a wash. The sky was so clear that the stars filled the sky. The temperature was rapidly dropping so we went to bed early. It was about 9:00 when the winds came. It was if someone had turned on the switch and a huge fan started blowing. Debris was blowing past the tent and I got out to survey the situation. Since there was no weight on my side of the tent it starting rising up and it looked like Mary was going to blow away with the tent. I got back in and once again had another crazy night of sleep but the strong winds had calmed down by morning. I always got up early so I generally made the coffee and that morning was no different. I went out to the stove and noticed the aluminum shield that blocks the wind had blown away. With my headlamp on I walked out into the desert in the direction that the winds had blown. I had no luck and came back and Mary joined the search party and found it quickly up in a tree. Coffee and oatmeal were made, we packed up and shortly we were back on the road.

On rainless nights washes provided a good place to camp. It was important to watch the weather of the extended area because when the rains come the water runs off into these washes and there could be flooding. This section of the desert had seen 1”of rain in the past 3 years!

During sun sets the whole campsite lit up.

By now we have figured out that the challenges we encountered were just part of the trip. During the day we usually had the headwind as we rode quietly along deep in thought past the desert scenery. We learned the only thing to expect was the unexpected and we had to be extremely flexible. Often we didn’t know where we would find a shop to buy food or where we would find a place to camp. This was another challenging day of riding and eating oatmeal, sandwiches, cliffbars, and rice was definitely getting old. Every now and then Rte. 66 would come close to Rte. 10, the interstate highway, and it was one of these times where we saw a truck stop named The Oasis. At this desert truckstop all the electricity is produced by a diesel generator. As we rode in, a wind mill that had blown off its mounts by the wind was just hanging on the tower. We walked in and yes they served food. The selection was limited but they had cheeseburgers and in fact one of the biggest burger I’ve ever seen along with a huge order of French fries. Mary and I each gobbled one down and soon we were looking around for more food. Snickers and Cliff Bars had become a staple as vegetables were hard to come by in the desert. Finally full we walked out to our bikes and the older German couple, (they probably referred us as the older American couple) were rolling up to our bikes. They had ridden all over the world and had about 35,000 miles on their bikes. Their bicycles had internal gears in their back hubs and required very little maintenance. It is definitely a dream bike. Back on the road we encountered a cold head wind as we traveled to the town of Goffs. On the map it indicated that there was an old schoolhouse where we had planned to set up our tent to block the wind. When we found the schoolhouse there was a fence around the whole area and we weren’t sure what to do. Then Mary spotted a man inside the fence and she went over and asked him if we could camp by the school. He said he could do better than that and offered us a small cabin with electricity and a bathroom! Hugh was the caretaker of an outside museum which included the school house and a community kitchen where we could cook dinner. Hugh was so kind and showed us around and told us a lot of the history of the area. The museum included machinery that processed the ore which was once the main industry in town. From a population of 1,500 Goffs was currently down to just 13 people, more than half of them working in the museum. One of the things that made Goffs so successful in the past was the trains that transported the minerals from the area. Now the trains pass by without stopping. All along traveling the southwest we will see and hear trains moving along. Before we left the next morning we walked the whole museum grounds and found it to be an amazing collection of small mining town artifacts from the past. ​

Hugh was so generous in taking us in. He changed a challenging night into a positive, memorable experience.

​Our cabin in Goffs.

The ore processing machinery was placed outside in the desert.

It was the end of our time on Rt. 66 as we turned on a side road and headed towards Route 95 which would take us to Needles, CA. When we reached Rt. 95 we had 15 miles to go to get to Needles on a heavily traveled, no shoulder road that at its edge dropped off into a sandy, dirt surface leaving no room for mistakes. I generally am not concerned with traffic but Mary gets nervous so she usually rides ahead of me. I knew if I was scared Mary must also be terrified. We stopped at a road side stand about two miles from Needles for a break and saw a coyote standing on the hillside. It was there we decided we had had enough of Rt. 95 and did not want to continue on it, so we planned to hitchbike down to the Southern Tier (the southern bicycle route) from Needles into Arizona.

Train tracks were a familiar sight along our journey. Notice the solar panels in the background.

Trains were seen daily, sometimes quite near and sometimes in the far distance. If you were in an area where you couldn’t see the trains you could hear their whistles blow.

Throughout our California crossing there were many challenges but Mary and I were now at the point where we were working together. As we rode we had hours available for observation and thought. Homelessness, poverty, and hopelessness were apparent, as well as the lack of nutritious food. As we ride along this journey I will discuss these observations. I have to say that these factors definitely figure into the political divide in our country. ​